Just a quick smoke
by fork-spoon-spork
Summary: Hermione doesn't go to HW at 11, instead staying home. two years later, she meets Draco Malfoy, and agrees to start HW as a 3rd year. OH, and she, Draco, and blaise are all being born two years early. So they're the same age as the Weasley Twins. Rated T


Disclaimer: No, I DON'T own Harry potter, J.K Rowling does, and she doesn't seem keen on sharing. So bugger off. .

Summary: Hermione turns down Hogwarts when she is 11, and two years later, when she's 13, she unexpectedly meets Draco Malfoy and his mother at her parent's dentist office. (NOT a Draco/Hermione!!) After a tragedy with her parents, she agrees to go to Hogwarts with Draco. OH- and in MY world, Draco and Hermione were born two years before the rest of the golden trio and crap. So yeah. She's the same age as the twins and stuff. Third year.

_Chapter One: The meeting._

Narcissa Malfoy had always prided herself in always knowing what to do in a tough situation. For example, say Lucius threw a party last minute, and she had no suitable gown to wear- why, she would simply pull out her want, and use her amazing skills as a seamstress to transform one of her many lovely (but already seen in public) gowns into a fantastic one of a kind marvel, that would attract attention from even the most illustrious wives. Now, however, she was at a loss. She was out on an errand with Draco to buy him some new, fancy and defiantly higher quality than anyone else at Hogwarts could boast of, school robes, when the pain had started.

Well, actually, it started with a stray piece of Biscotti, which she had been munching on in a very lady like manner as they walked, when she'd suddenly staggered, and had to lean against the wall. Of course, she was at once attended to by at least half a dozen bodyguards, none of which, sadly, knew what could be causing this immense pain. Luckily for her, though, (or not so lucky, in her opinion…) Draco had been brushing up on his Latin in the Malfoy manor library, when he had come upon a book on muggles throughout the ages. For some strange coincidence that cannot be explained here, he had read enough of it to reach the part that described the origination, purpose, and how to identify what muggles liked to call _Dentists,_ and their offices

And _that _is how one could explain the slightly odd presence of a groaning Narcissa, and her slightly embarrassed, but feeling accomplished son Draco, at the Granger Dentist Facility in downtown London. So, as Narcissa was reduced to groaning in pain while sitting in a waiting room (the horror, had she been in her right state of mind at that moment, I believe we can be sure she would be thinking indignant thoughts along the lines of 'oh, I do hope Lucius never hears of this…' or 'That horrid woman Mrs. Something Parkinson had better never hear of this, or I shall never hear the end of this. To think, one such as myself in a _muggle_ establishment. The shame I would bring upon the Malfoy name would surely infuriate Lucius…') Draco was up at the counter speaking to a young girl who seemed to be around the same age as himself (a grand total of 13 years, thank you very much [all shall be explained, my dear readers, all in good time!) trying to arrange an appointment with the dentist so he could get his bloody robes and leave, dammit! (His words, not mine! .) After establishing that the Dentist would be free in 10 minutes, he returned to his mother, and gently explained to her the basics of who and what she would be meeting, and how she should act, what not to mention, all of that behaviour stuff that Wizards never seem to think about much… Such as, 'Never bring up Butter beer, as muggles really will believe you wish for a beer with a chunk of butter in it…' Ah, yes, he learnt that one from personal experience… what a memory.

But moving on- through her dizzying spells of pain, Narcissa managed to listen to most of what her son was saying, even attempting a nod once, only to cringe and whimper in pain as she somehow jarred whatever it was that was causing this dilemma in the first place. If she made it out of this _denistos_, or whatever Draco had called it, alive, she was swearing off Biscotti for life; or, as long as she could remember this particular experience. She'd always had a soft spot for Biscotti… Ever since her 4th year at Beaubatons (sp?) and that handsome Professor who had only just graduated last year had given her a piece after she had fallen and scraped her knee on the ground. They'd had tea afterwards, and had hit it off immediately. They both knew it could have gone further, had their social lives not interfered. Love knows no bounds, is what some Muggle writers and philosophers said… But that saying had failed her then, letting her be whisked away and married off to a rich bachelor before the roast from her 18th birthday had even cooled.

As Narcissa was reminiscing about the past, and what could have been, had she not caved to the pressure of her parents, and married Lucius Malfoy, the girl from behind the counter, who, she noticed, really could be quite… er, pretty, if she simply fixed her hair (which had a rather bad dye job… really, though. Muggles. How they survived was a mystery to her…) and got a tan, maybe, came out and told Draco (Narcissa was in no position to speak at the moment… how astute an observation, eh?) that the dentist could see her now. Draco stood, offering his arm to his mother, who gratefully latched on and hobbled towards the door to the back of the clinic, one hand clutching her jaw, and the beginnings of tears in the corners of her eyes. Yes, if this denistos could do something for this pain, she would not only swear off biscotti, she would maybe even make a large donation to the ratty clinic…

Stepping into the room, walking just behind his mother, Draco helped her into the slightly reclined chair in the middle of the room, and proceeded to seat himself on the stool in the corner. He couldn't help but feel slightly helpless now, watching his mother in pain, and not being able to do anything really… helpful. As these slightly morose thoughts were traversing their way across Draco's slightly cluttered (and vain) mind, he noticed a tall, slim woman make her way into the room, followed by the girl from behind the counter. Draco took this moment to truly give her the once-over (hey, he's a 13 year old hormonal male. All guys do this, trust Me.). She was tall, he guessed she was pushing 5'8" or so, just slightly shorter than himself, she had black, just below shoulder length hair that had obviously been flat-ironed one too many times, and she was showing the beginnings of chestnut brown roots. Her skin seemed to be deathly pale, and he noticed silver two silver rings in her cartilage in one ear, and three in the top of the other. The lobes, he noticed, seemed to have been subjected to a rather _odd _muggle quirk, and had been stretched and had a plug in each, about just larger than a lead pencil width. She was wearing dark-wash black skinny jeans that clung tightly to her slightly non-existent curves, and rather stylish ankle boots that were wide at the top, and had about 2 ½ inch heels-black. She was wearing a forest green top with small words spelling out 'freak' on her upper left shoulderish, and a black tank top underneath, with the end inches showing (A/N- layering. And I'm sorry, I really hate it in stories where people make the characters wear shirts with stuff like 'bitch' or 'I cant hear you' written on them and stuff, I just thought having it say 'freak' would be rather fitting… What with wizards and muggles and stuff. Yeah. Sorry.)

After looking her over for a minute or two (she really wasn't that bad looking, he supposed… rather crude, though) he returned his attention to the Dentist (he assumed the woman was the Dentist. and she is. So yeah. Shut it). After a few minutes of her explaining that Narcissa had chipped a good quarter of one of her Molars off on a stray nut in her Biscotti, she exclaimed that if Narcissa ever wanted her perfect smile back (striking a vanity point. ouch) she would have to get a mold made of her mouth, and a replacement tooth (I don't know what a Dentist would really do at this point. So I'm making it up to fit my story. I would love tips though, anyone a dentist??). She also explained that Narcissa seemed to have some tooth decay in the back, and she could fix that too, with some caps, maybe filler here or there, nothing a few appointments wouldn't fix. At the moment though, much of the daily rush had finished, and if Narcissa wanted, she could take the mold, (and give her some painkillers) pull the tooth, and discuss the proceeding appointments that would need to be made.

Already getting bored, Draco stood up, and stretched a bit looking an awful lot like a cat while doing so, and slinked his way out of the room, wandering around a bit. Already bored with the eggshell walls, and nurse practitioners walking around in their dentist scrubs, he popped outside for a quick smoke, hoping his mother wouldn't see him thru a window or something. She _hated _it when he smoked - enough to douse him with an Augamenti a few times. As he leaned up against the window, and pulled out a quickly emptying packet of cigarettes, he realized with a curse that he had no way of lighting it here in Muggle-land, as he liked to call it. Reminded him of that one time when his mother had taken him to Disney-land on vacation, and he'd thrown up on the Roller Coaster controller _right_ as they looped back past the beginning again. Needless to say, that was the day he discovered he _really_ didn't have a knack for roller coasters – at all.

Just as he was about to give up all hope, and find a nice bush somewhere so he could discreetly light his cigarette, a delicate hand held out a lighter in front of his face, making him turn quickly to the right, only too see the girl from earlier, a cigarette already in her mouth, a look of utter relaxation already present on her previously stressed looking face.

Muttering a quick

"Thanks…"

Before taking the black and purple striped lighter from her pale hand, happy that he'd taken the time to learn how to work one of these contraptions, and happily lit up his cigarette. Ah… Nothing like a smoke when you were stuck in unfamiliar territory… Halfway through is second drag, the smoke billowing up around them in artistic swirls and clouding above them, the girl looked up slightly, eyeing the quickly darkening sky.

"Hm… At risk of sounding like some Cliché movie line, 'looks like rain'…" before chuckling a quiet laugh to herself.

"Hey, I'm Ray. Well, that's not my real name, but really – who willingly goes around letting people call her Hermione anyways?"

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OK, peoples, I hope you like the start of my story! I've kind of wanted to write a good story for a while, And rest assured that the moment I save this, close this, and upload this, I'll re-open Word and begin the next chapter. Or at least, I'll outline the next chapter. I outlined this, and my usual crap work turned into something presentable. I'm happy, and the Review button's throwing a party! Just click it to get in!! Cookies and mentions to my first 3 reviewers, because 3 is the most fucking awesome number around. No questions asked. It is.

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